


Autograph

by bookwyrmling



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 04:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7344682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwyrmling/pseuds/bookwyrmling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whiskey told Tony he’d get that autograph.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Autograph

**Author's Note:**

> Short fic based on the most recent updates. This is actually my first piece for this fandom and of course I choose to write it on two characters we know next to nothing about. BUT I LOVE THEM?????
> 
> All thanks to Ngozi for these awesome characters and their stories.

It was on their way back from the Falconers’ game that the questions started and Whiskey tries to hide the fond smile he felt tugging at the corner of his lips. An hour in the car – nearly thirty of which was spent trying to navigate post-game traffic, the other half-hour spent speeding down a mostly-empty 95 – and they still had not ceased by the time both vehicles pulled up in front of the Haus. Whiskey sent a smirk in Tony’s direction as the rest of the team members – the ones who knew Jack Zimmermann and had lived and studied and played with Jack Zimmermann tried to field each question into finality but only managed to bring forth yet another.

“GOOD NIGHT, Tango,” Bitty eventually said loud enough from where he stood half-way up the stairs to the second floor to get his point across better than the promised tomorrows from him and Holster and Ransom and Whiskey sent the co-captains and the unofficial Head of Haus (certainly Head of Haus’s Kitchen) a knowing look and a nod before jumping in, fielding Tango’s unbridled curiosity and leading him down the street. He’d become good at that since pre-season conditioning had started up and while some of the older team members had plenty to say about some of his other acquaintances, they seemed to promote the friendship between him and Tango whenever possible.

Nursey and Dex had been riding with Shitty and Lardo and Chowder and were walking back to campus together a block ahead of the two Tadpoles when Shitty drove past them on his way back to Harvard, his hand slamming on the horn as he whooped and hollered the whole way. It was frat row, so it wasn’t like it was an uncommon occurrence. If anything, Bitty’s insistence he end the night so early was the oddity. Tony would probably ask about that later, but, for the moment he was finally wrapping up his string of questions about the game and the team – the ones that did not require answers and were more commentary posed as questions and all Whiskey had to do was nod his head and hum even if he was listening close enough to hold an appropriate discussion on the game with hidden specific answers to some of Tony’s actual questions at a later date that would seem far less hyped than direct answers given right this very moment. He grabbed Tony’s arm and turned them over to cross the river to get back to their dorm when Tony nearly walked right past the bridge’s turn-off.

“Do you think he’d sign my jersey?”

Whiskey blinked at the pause that came after the question and he nearly missed a step at Tony’s curious stare. Oh. He really was supposed to answer this one. “If you ask him, I’m sure,” he shrugged nonchalantly because it was the answer Tony would want to hear and from what he’d seen tonight Jack had seemed like a pretty cool dude. Whiskey was glad the group had opened up invitations to the team as a whole and, even though a majority hadn’t been able to due to front-loading classes and Whiskey had two papers to write by Monday and probably shouldn’t have gone, either, he was extra glad that Tony had RSVP’d for the both of them.

“Oh, I don’t know if I could ask him. I mean, wouldn’t that be rude? When would I even meet him?” Tony asked, searching Whiskey for answers he could only begin to guess at.

“Shitty was yelling about dragging him here for one of our first games.”

The second pair of footsteps that had been sounding next to him stopped and Whiskey took a few more steps before turning behind him to see Tony with his jaw dropped and his eyebrows furrowed. “Wait, so, Jack Zimmermann, a famous pro hockey player whose jerseys we are currently wearing, is going to be watching us play?”

Well, when it was said like that even Whiskey had to let out a slow breath to calm his suddenly pounding heart. “He’s just another alum,” he shrugged before throwing his head behind him, “Come on, let’s get back to the dorm.”

They walked in silence – the first silence Whiskey had found since he and Tony had headed over to the Haus after classes today – for all of thirty seconds before Tony shook his head. “I don’t think I can ask him.”

“Then I’ll do it.”

Whiskey knew exactly where the fuck that came from, he just didn’t want to admit it.

\-----

They lost their first game, but it was close and the entire team was in good spirits. There was a kegster planned for after and Jack and Shitty had been in the stands screaming so loud Whiskey had heard them over the entire din of the rink on multiple occasions. Jack Zimmermann had seemed a more reserved quiet sort on the ice – even his participation in cellys was muted compared to some of his teammates – but apparently that was not always the case.

The team's celebrity guest came into the locker room only a few minutes after Whiskey had stepped out of the shower. While the older teammembers and the starstruck teammembers surrounded him for high-fives and words of admiration and autographs – the combination of all three from each of the two groups was, admittedly, entertaining to watch, especially when Ransom and Holster begged for autographs on their bare chests like puck bunnies presenting their breasts and Jack laughed before actually attempting to do so with permanent marker – Whiskey finished dressing and, when the crowd had dispersed a bit, Whiskey opened his bag and pulled out the blue-trimmed white from within.

This was probably the least cool thing he had done, but, well…he looked over at Tony two stalls down, chatting with a sophomore on the fourth line and Whiskey sighed and pulled it over his head.

“Good job tonight,” Jack greeted him as he walked up and Whiskey smirked.

“Not as good as you guys have been doing,” he replied before taking a breath. “Uh, would you mind?” he asked, thumbing over his shoulder at the back of his jersey.

Jack laughed. “No problem, man,” (Man? Jack Zimmermann had apparently just called him man). Whiskey smiled as he turned around so Jack could sign while the conversation continued to flow around him. Tony was right, though. While these older guys chirped and were chirped by Jack Zimmermann easily enough, they had been teammates with him and shared classes or living space with him. To Whiskey, well, he was still Jack Zimmermann and that came with a lot.

But Jack Zimmermann seemed to want to interact with everyone here without as much of that as possible, so Whiskey would have to act chill.

“Thanks for the autograph, uh, Jack!” he said, cringing at how that sounded after he felt the sharpie disappear. Not even daring to see if anyone had caught onto that, Whiskey walked away while pulling the jersey back over his head.

“Yo. Tony,” he called out the moment he got it overhead and Whiskey watched as the other guy came rushing up.

“Wow! So you talked to Jack Zimmermann?” Whiskey smirked at the awe in Tony’s eyes and felt pride burn at his chest.

“I told you I’d get him to sign it.”

And as Tony oohed over the item and wondered at how much it would one day be worth, Whiskey tried to not imagine the face his teammate would make when he found this folded in his drawer where Whiskey planned on slipping it in secretly the very next moment he could.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Tumblr. Please [visit me](http://bookwyrmling.tumblr.com/) there to scream about these two lovely tadpoles or fictional gay hockey players in general!


End file.
